


The Kiss Will Kill You

by themayqueen



Series: The Way You Trick And You Tease [27]
Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Antagonism, Anthem Era, Brother/Brother Incest, Cigarettes, Come Shot, Fights, Hand Jobs, M/M, Makeup Sex, Male Slash, Orgasm Control, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: Isaac often dreamed of the day when their devoted fans realized that the golden boy wasn't so perfect after all.





	The Kiss Will Kill You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malfunkshon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfunkshon/gifts).



> This was written for the prompt "after a fight." Title comes from "Point of View" by Silverchair.

They'd been arguing around in circles for what felt like—and by that point probably _was_ —hours. Zac slipped out quietly, and Isaac wished he could do the same, but he knew he couldn't. Not until he and Taylor settled this, one way or another. 

Isaac knew it wasn't entirely his fault, but it wasn't entirely Taylor's fault either. They just got under each other's skin. At least, that's what he told himself when he was feeling generous. When he wasn't feeling so generous, he wanted to squeeze Taylor's neck until his big head popped off and hopefully took his inflated sense of self worth with it.

“Can you—can you just play the bass part, please?” Taylor asked, his overly patient tone of voice not dissimilar to how he would talk to one of his children when they misbehave. 

Isaac shrugged off his bass and walked away, shaking his head. He knew he's been a bastard about getting this part just right, but Taylor knew—he fucking _knew_ —the one thing Ike really couldn't stand was being talked to like a child. It was the tone Taylor adopted every time he was angry, as if trying to sound more mature than the other person would make people ignore that Taylor was usually being a douchebag. 

If their fans could see him now, Ike thought as he shoved open the studio's back door.

None of them would come out smelling like roses if the fans could see them argue, he knew, but it would be the biggest blow to Taylor's ego if the fans realized his flaws. Isaac often dreamed of the day when their devoted fans realized that the golden boy wasn't so perfect after all. Whether that meant more of them would finally notice him, he hardly even cared. He was over being jealous of Taylor's popularity, or so he told himself. Most of the time he believed it.

Although he was anxious to get home, anywhere away from Taylor really, Isaac pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Just one would calm his nerves enough that he wouldn't snap at Nikki or the kids when he got home. That wouldn't have been fair to them; this was between him and Taylor, and it needed to stay that way.

He was halfway through his cigarette when the studio's door opened. It was so late that everyone else was gone, so Isaac didn't bother turning his head to see if it was Taylor. Who else could it be?

“Ike...” Taylor sighed. “Look, we can just... we can go home for the night, okay? We'll work on the song tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “Does that mean we're going to do it my way or yours? It's not ready to record. It's not good enough.”

Taylor ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay. If that's what you think. But I think we keep... pushing...”

Isaac stared at him, trying to judge whether or not Taylor was serious. He wasn't used to his brother capitulating so quickly. Taylor was stubborn; they all were. But the one good thing about Taylor, the one thing Isaac would never call a flaw, was his desire to please people. He'd do it on his own terms, but eventually, he'd do it. They were both perfectionists, in their own way. When they could find a way to agree, they could work really well together. Isaac had seen that chemistry at work time after time and not always in the studio.

He tossed his cigarette down and gave Taylor a grin. “Alright. We'll work on it tomorrow.”

Taylor returned his grin and took a step toward Isaac. He held his arms out, childlike. “So we're good now?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied. “We're good.”

Before Isaac could protest, Taylor wrapped him up in his arms, squeezing him so hard Ike thought he might explode. It was a sweet gesture, but one that ignited that same old fire in Isaac all over again. One thing he both loved and hated about Taylor was just _how_ far under his skin his brother could get—even in ways he shouldn't.

The hug soon turned to kissing, Taylor greedily lapping at Isaac's mouth in spite of the fact that it no doubt tasted like smoke. Maybe Taylor liked the taste, Isaac thought. He decided not to judge his brother for that, since he couldn't resist sinking his teeth into Taylor's lip, just barely drawing blood. 

This was usually a fight between them, a struggle to see who would dominate, but this time Taylor turned to putty in Isaac's arms quite quickly. Isaac decided to take advantage of that before Taylor changed his mind. The back alley behind their studio was secluded enough, not shared with any other buildings, so Isaac pulled back from the kiss and whispered, “Against the wall.”

Taylor grasped his meaning, and positioned himself against the brick wall, palms pressed against the bricks and legs spread. Isaac took a moment just to stare at him, loving the site of his douchebag of a brother looking so submissive. If there were a way to have him look like that all the time, Isaac would have loved to know.

Still, he couldn't be too rough with Taylor, no matter how angry he'd been with him. He wasted no time shoving Taylor's pants and boxers down, but his touch was gentle. Isaac knew exactly how Taylor liked to be touched, knew exactly how he would squirm when Isaac's strokes were bringing him close to the edge. When he reached that point, Isaac shoved a two fingers—not as gently as he'd meant to—into Taylor's mouth. Taylor knew exactly what to do with them, sucked them just like he would Isaac's cock. It made Isaac groan, and he pulled back his fingers so quickly that they made a popping sound.

Taylor whimpered at their absence, but he moaned when Isaac slid one of them between his cheeks. Their semi-public location and Isaac's still raw emotions kept him from being as gentle with Taylor as he might have been at times, but he still took his time to prep his brother. There was no point in actually _hurting_ him, even if they had made more than a few emotional wounds earlier. 

Once he was certain Taylor was ready for him, Isaac stepped back and pulled his own pants down, just enough to free his cock from his boxers. He teased Taylor with it for a moment, enjoying the way Taylor squirmed against him, practically begging for it. It was silly to take such pride in making Taylor so needy, but Isaac knew he was one of the only people Taylor would ever willingly submit to, and he was going to take advantage of that. 

He thrust into Taylor all at once, forcing a sound that might have been described as a whine from Taylor's mouth, and built up his rhythm quickly. The sex wasn't exactly rough, but it was rough enough. Just enough to get rid of the remaining tension in Isaac's bones, just enough to finally allow him to relax and forget what they'd been fighting about anyway. 

He held Taylor's cock in his hand, stroking him so slowly that Taylor could only come when Isaac wanted him to. When he did, head thrown back against Isaac's, he let out a moan so loud that it made Isaac glad all the other businesses nearby were closed up for the night. The sound, and the sight of Taylor's come splattering against the brick wall, sent Isaac over the edge, too.

By the time the two of them had redressed, Isaac felt perfectly at ease and content. He took out another cigarette and offered one to Taylor as well. Taylor let his hand linger on Isaac's a second or two longer than necessary, smiling sheepishly at him. 

As they stood in silence and smoked their cigarettes, Isaac knew that their fight was over, at least for the day. Tomorrow, he knew, was a different story.


End file.
